


take my picture now (shake it 'til you see it)

by orphan_account



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Banter, Eddie is so gone for Richie guys, First Kiss, Fluff, Halloween, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mistletoe, More tags to be added, POV: Eddie Kaspbrak, aged up losers, excessive touching, holiday fluff, hurt/ comfort, kinda a character study?, movie theaters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:14:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21558394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Eddie and Richie's senior year, through the seasons. Captured by Eddie Kaspbrak's polaroid camera.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	take my picture now (shake it 'til you see it)

Eddie had gotten a polaroid camera for his sixteenth birthday.

It was a disgusting shade of neon green, and a testament of how little his aunts knew about him. Eddie wasn’t one for art of any kind, he’d never grown an appreciation for that kind of stuff like Bill or Ben. Unless you counted his appreciation for music, because Eddie had a vast record collection that he stored under his bed and only listened to at the other Losers’ houses. His mother wasn’t overly fond of the disco Eddie listened to on repeat, and would scoff whenever she heard The Village People playing through Eddie’s scuffed record player.

Eddie, for the most part, wasn’t into art. The polaroid camera, like his old math trophies and yearbooks, accumulated a layer of dust as his junior year came to a close and the summer of his senior year began. Occasionally he’d eye it and contemplate using it, but Eddie always ended up shaking his head and ignoring it again. Nothing worth taking pictures of, Eddie thought. Nothing in this  _ shithole  _ town that was art-worthy, like the kind of stuff he’d seen in that art museum that scared the shit out of Stanley. Which was reasonable, really, seeing as Pennywise had never really left them, even now.

Derry was filled with hate, but Eddie felt like an idiot when he realized that there  _ was  _ beauty in Derry. It was just masked by an incessant string of “your mom” jokes and accents that were so terrible they should be illegal. 

—

The first time Richie had convinced Eddie to bring the camera was the summer before their senior year. They’d spent the day at Mike’s, helping him fix the roof, shear the sheep, fix up the garden and whatever else needed to be done around his place. Eddie himself hadn’t really helped because, well, hay fever is a  _ thing _ but he’d provided moral support by means of roping them all in when they began to get distracted from the job at hand. Mike’s uncle was a dick, but he  _ had  _ given them popsicles when all the work had been completed.

Eddie had been licking on his astro-pop, streams of red, white, and blue dripping down his wrists and staining his white shorts with that terrible dye his mother always warned him about. His fanny pack days were long behind him, but he’d brought one along this summer day to carry the camera Richie had asked him to bring for reasons he still wasn't quite sure of.

The whole day he wondered why Richie had asked him to bring the camera. He never asked him if he could use it while they sat on crates and got brain freeze, or afterwards when they swam at the quarry. It was only until after all the Losers had gone that Richie brought it up.

“Hey, Eds, can I see that camera of yours now?” Richie asked as they lay in the grass by the water, their skin tinted orange from the reflection of the sunset on the crystalline banks. Eddie knew he was sunburned, despite the heaps of sunscreen he’d put on at Mike’s. Richie, on the other hand, looked  _ gorgeous. _

Eddie rummages through his fanny pack, and pulls it out as he pries his eyes away from Richie. “Uh, yeah, sure,” he stutters out, thrusting his hand over towards Richie. “I don’t see why you want it, though. It’s dumb. Useless. Not even a  _ good _ camera, like the one Stan has. It’s cheap as fuck and my aunt probably bought it at a Goodwill —”

_ CLICK _

Eddie is interrupted from his rant by the shutter clicking of the polaroid. The camera is bumping Richie’s glasses, and the film slowly slips out. Richie shakes it vigorously, waiting for the film to develop.

“You just wanted it to take pictures of me when I don't expect it? Okay, okay. That’s a  _ real _ asshole move Rich.  _ Real  _ mature. You know I hate seeing photos of myself, like my school photos? Terrible. Especially now, when I’m sunburned as fuck? I swear to God I’m taking that photo back, and setting it on fire.” Eddie rambles and reaches for the photo, but Richie holds it over his head, smirking down at Eddie, and impressed with the reaction he got out of him.

“Nuh uh, Eds. I’m keeping this. You’re not getting it back no matter how hard you try,” Richie taunts, and sticks his tongue out. Mature, real mature. But this is how their banter went. Childish antics, play-fighting, and eventually laughing so hard they cried. So now was time for the second step.

Eddie tackled Richie into the grass, and Richie laughed as he had the wind knocked out of him. It was then that Eddie caught a glimpse of the photo. Oh  _ fuck _ , it was terrible. He was mid rant, so his mouth was wide open and almost slack. The camera wasn't good quality, but the peeling on his cheeks was still visible.  _ Gross. _

Eddie had to get that photo back, no matter what it cost him.

He tickles Richie’s ribs with his fingertips, and Richie clutches his side with the hand that isn't grasping the polaroid like a lifeline. Richie had a beautiful laugh. It wasn't the kind of laugh you heard in movies, but it was contagious. He snorted every so often, and his nose scrunched up. Despite their mock fighting, Eddie couldn't help but laugh along with him.

Eddie tickled under his stomach, and once he reached his hips Richie released the photo, allowing Eddie to tear it. He smirked at Richie below him, and grabbed the camera from where it lay in the grass. Perfect revenge, a candid of Richie. Richie, who was red in the face, pouting, and wide-eyed. The perfect revenge.

Except, it wasn't. Because the photo of Richie turned out beautifully. Dandelions in the grass framed his curls, his pout only emphasized the fullness of his lips, and his eyes were wide but glinting with mischief. Shadows from the sunset cast on his face, but he still was bathed in the yellow and orange hue of the sunset.

Richie knew the photo was decent (understatement) so he didn't ask for it back. Only rubbed it in Eddie’s face as he walked him home, his pointy elbows jutting Eddie’s sides as he teased him. Eddie slipped the photo into the fanny pack along with his camera. He’d never used it before, but he was  _ definitely  _ using it again.

—

Eddie stored the photo in his sock drawer, where his mom couldn't find it. That photo simply wasn't the kind of photos boys took of each other. It was...pretty. It was  _ art.  _ Eddie tried to ignore it, but every night he took that photo out and clutched it to his chest before bed. 

While he usually dreamt of crimson blood and fear, he now dreamt of orange sunsets and Richie Tozier’s laughter.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> woop, first multi-chaptered fic coming up. sorry if this idea is similar to something else anyone has put out there, because it was not at all my intention. more tags will be added as i go along but be prepared for some halloween losers, christmas shenanigans and some h/c. i currently have two chapters written, which will be posted soon!


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